


Take Shelter

by riskyrevenge



Category: Electronic Dance Music RPF
Genre: Fluff, Haunted Houses, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Minor Violence, Rare Pairings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-24
Updated: 2014-10-24
Packaged: 2018-02-22 10:03:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 655
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2503853
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/riskyrevenge/pseuds/riskyrevenge
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The violent, in-your-face, interactive haunted house was maybe not the greatest date idea. Hugo calms Porter down when they finally get out.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Take Shelter

**Author's Note:**

> So, we know Hugo at least likes/has a high tolerance for horror, and Porter is... not so into it. This little fic came from my friend and I going back and forth on what their reactions to McKamey Manor would be.
> 
> McKamey Manor is the haunted house I'm describing and it's nuts as hell. You can find more info about it [here](https://www.youtube.com/user/McKameyManor) (it's definitely not for the squeamish. CW for creepy crawlies, violence, general horror, copious amounts of fake blood.)
> 
> For this fic, just a minor CW for mentions of violence and fake blood. Some cursing.

As soon as they’re free of the house, Porter launches himself at Hugo and wraps his arms around him as tight as he can. The tears are flowing freely down his face now, he’s no longer even attempting to keep them in check. A broken sob escapes him, and there’s a camera attached to a videographer there waiting to do their exit interview, but Porter doesn’t care.

“I was so scared. I was so scared they’d actually hurt you.”

Hugo’s gripping Porter with equal fervor, trying to demonstrate that he’s still there, he’s okay, they both made it. “Shhh, mon amour. I’m here. You’re here. They let us out.” He turns his face to press gentle kisses to Porter’s temple. “It’s all gone, it was all fake.”

Porter manages to pull away, just barely, his arms still holding Hugo close. He looks straight into Hugo’s eyes before he can feel the tears welling up again. “I can’t ever lose you. I’ve never been so terrified of anything in my life.”

He again remembers the actor with the fake blood-coated knife. How his hand was around Hugo’s neck, squeezing, squeezing _hard_ it looked like, as he pressed the flat side of the dripping knife to Hugo’s cheek. He can’t even remember what the actor had been saying, could only remember the roaring white noise in his ears as he fought to try and push the asshole away. But he couldn’t, he was being held back, someone had his arm by the wrist and someone else had their arms locked around his waist and it was all he could do to scream “YOU FUCKING BASTARDS! DON’T YOU DARE TOUCH HIM!” as he kicked and tried to break away from the sadistic fucks who worked the haunted house. Hugo had looked frightened but had somehow kept his cool the entire time until one of the actors shoved Porter a little too hard and his head hit the wall. That’s when Hugo demanded they let them out. 

Porter’s not even sure why they let them out. It was certainly against policy, but maybe it was because he went so goddamn ballistic when they laid their hands on Hugo. He was just glad to be out. If he had to stand any more of it, he might have actually killed one of them.

Porter’s hands had somehow found their way to the front of Hugo’s jacket as he relived it, fisting in the dark material and holding tight. He’s just barely registering Hugo’s hands running up and down his back slowly, comforting, as he whispers French in Porter’s ear. Porter can feel the gentle kisses Hugo is peppering across his forehead, on his temple, just below his jaw. Soothing.

Finally, he finds the strength to take a half step back, and loosens his fists. He runs one hand up into Hugo’s hair, stroking through it, trying to keep it from getting all matted down by the fake blood. Hugo’s looking into his eyes, flicking back and forth, trying to make sure Porter’s coming down from his terror. Porter closes his eyes and leans in to press a kiss to Hugo’s lips, and he can taste the salt of his own tears. It’s only when he pulls back again he notices the tear tracks down Hugo’s face, too. He smiles tentatively. “What’s wrong with you? You weren’t even scared.”

Hugo’s hands come up on either side of Porter’s face. “I can’t stand to see you so distraught.” He kisses Porter urgently, desperately, needing Porter to know that this whole experience has affected him just as badly. Porter clings to Hugo, kissing his cheek, his brow, his neck, every inch he can reach.

Hugo whispers “Je t’aime, Porter.” And finally, Porter can breathe again.

The videographer approaches with the camera light shining at them and before he can even open his mouth, Porter flips him off. “Get the fuck out of here.”


End file.
